"Let us begin. Let the circle not be broken. Concentrate upon the flame, which burns upon the Altar of Truth. Yes... there is something here. Something terrible. I feel its presence. Fear, anger, hatred... anger feeds the flame. Oh, oh, there is evil here, monstrous, terrible evil! Consuming hunger! Hatred of all that lives, hatred of women, a hunger that never dies! It is strong, overpowering, an ancient terror! It has a name: Barratus, Kesla, Redjac. Devouring all life, all light! A hunger that will never die!"
~ Sybo, the Argelian empath

Let me start off by saying, serial killers are not cool. They are total jerks. But much like the Zodiac Killer, Jack the Ripper still has folks intrigued because he had a great name and was never caught. Judas Priest, Morrissey, Nick Cave, and even LL Cool J have songs about "The Ripper."

Now, I don't listen to those cats, but I do have a fond memory of tearing down a dirt road along side the railroad tracks in my old Ford F150 (with a spray-painted pirate flag on the hood) listening to Link Wray & His Ray Men's "Jack the Ripper" on cassette when I was a young lad.

Sherlock Holmes is alive and well today, but you won’t find him at his bee farm in Sussex Downs. He’s still on the case, solving mysteries on the BBC (Sherlock), American television (Elementary) and on the big screen (Mr. Holmes). Crime fighters come and go, but Mr. Holmes is a constant. The master detective has been with us for nearly 130 years and shows no sign of taking “His Last Bow” any time soon. This is truly an exciting time for this legendary character and his legion of fans—but it’s not the first time.

Universal’s Sherlock Holmes movies of the 1940’s were adventure-mysteries fueled by the pulp magazines of the era. The more staid, literary, murder-in-the-drawing-room stories of Holmes creator Sir Arthur Conan Doyle gave way B-Movie thrills: diabolical plots, fiendish masterminds, nefarious enemy agents, and horrific death-traps, all set in embattled World War II London. These films reside in a macabre realm of shadows and intrigue that lie on the border of two cinematic worlds: Universal’s classic horror movies of the '30s, with their Hollywood-Gothic sets and expressionistic camera angles, and the foreboding dark streets of classic Film Noir of the late '40s. They are bound together by curling tendrils of fog constantly pumped out by studio smoke machines.